


There's No Place Like Home

by creatureofhobbit



Category: Fringe
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-09
Updated: 2013-11-09
Packaged: 2017-12-31 22:10:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1036941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/creatureofhobbit/pseuds/creatureofhobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Altlivia readjusts to life Over There following events of Entrada.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's No Place Like Home

She’d been surprised that Secretary Bishop had turned up in person to collect her when she arrived home. Olivia had been expecting Colonel Broyles to be the one to meet her. But the Secretary had said that her mission had been of such paramount importance that he felt he needed to speak with her himself. Olivia hadn’t questioned that at the time. It was only when Agent Farnsworth had told her that Colonel Broyles hadn’t come home the night before that she had started to wonder. Secretary Bishop had not seemed concerned about the whereabouts of Colonel Broyles, but Agent Farnsworth was right – it really wasn’t like him.

Olivia knew somewhere deep down inside that the Secretary knew more about it than he was letting on. But she also knew that she would not speak of it to anyone. Olivia was already keeping one secret from everyone in her life; she didn’t want to know anything else that could compromise her further.

Lincoln had made that remark on her first day back about how his burns had healed “just like nothing ever happened”. Olivia had plastered a smile on her face and repeated his words as much for herself as for Lincoln. Because Secretary Bishop had made it clear that that was the way it had to be now; just like nothing ever happened.

He’d presented her with the files of the cases she’d missed out on; the man causing the chain reactions, the man who’d broken his twin brother out of the amber, and how “she” had managed to track down the man responsible for the kidnap of Broyles’s son among others. “Memorise these,” the Secretary had said. “If anyone ever brings them up again, you need to be able to convince people that it was you who solved them.” Olivia had read through them all, wishing over again that she had the other Olivia’s photographic memory. She’d need it to get all these straight.

“Mr. Stanton will not be there when you return,” Secretary Bishop had informed her as they approached her apartment. “He was called to deal with an outbreak of smallpox in North Texas. I understand that he still does not know when he will return.” Olivia had been ashamed that her initial reaction was relief that she would have time to get her head around everything, to get used to being back, before she saw him again.

He obviously hadn’t spotted the switch; he would never have left for North Texas if he had had any doubts, Olivia knew that. Still, she could not blame him; Peter had taken two months to notice as well. Still, Olivia would not let herself think of all that now.

“Congratulations, Agent Dunham,” Secretary Bishop had said, “on a job well done.”

It wasn’t until long after he had gone that Olivia realised he had not asked her one question about his son.

 

Olivia’s initial reaction on opening her closet and seeing her coloured items there was one of relief. She didn’t know how the other Olivia could stand her wardrobe, almost military with its uniform blacks and whites.

Her next reaction was one of revulsion at the thought of the other Olivia wearing her clothes, her make up, and the shudder deepened when she remembered that the other would also have worn her underwear. The clothes would all have to go straight in the laundry basket when she got back – she knew it was dumb, but she also knew she’d feel better once all traces of the other were gone. The make up and the underwear, well, they would have to be replaced. The thought of wearing them again after She had used them gave Olivia the creeps.

Olivia read through Secretary Bishop’s file one last time before going in to work. Hopefully, she shouldn’t be asked anything about them, but she thought she might be able to bullshit her way through. As she fastened her ear cuff, Olivia thanked God again for the technology of her own universe. The cell phone she’d had to use Over There looked like something from 1985. Olivia had taken ages to get the hang of the buttons on the phone, finding it awkward and fiddly. She and Rachel used to have toy cellphones, but she couldn’t remember seeing a real one like that before. One time at the start, she’d thought Walter had spotted her awkwardness with it, but instead he’d just laughed and asked if she remembered the day he’d got stranded in Chinatown because he couldn’t remember Peter’s number.

And they still used ball point pens over there, for Pete’s sake. Olivia doubted she’d seen one of them since preschool (as She had said to Lincoln in the Stanfield case). She’d spent ages one night with one of those as well, trying to produce something close enough to the other Olivia’s handwriting in case she ever needed to write anything in front of them.

As Olivia made her way to her office, and Lincoln had made that remark about his burns healing, she’d had to hide her relief at seeing him fully healed again instead of as she had last seen him, immediately after that girl from Over There had set him alight. He, of course, thought she’d been seeing him every day and was used to it.

Not having Lincoln and Charlie, her two best friends as well as her partners, around had been one of the hardest things for Olivia about being Over There. Their Charlie had been killed the year before by one of Secretary Bishop’s shapeshifters, and their Lincoln didn’t work in Fringe division (Olivia had passed their Lincoln in a Boston street once, and had felt so tempted to call out to him, to reclaim one part of her life, but she knew he wouldn’t know who she was). And even now, Olivia felt that a barrier would remain between them as long as she was keeping this from them. She was so used to telling them everything (well, she told Charlie everything, and Lincoln everything that didn’t need to be kept secret from anybody) but now there was something she could never share with them. She certainly never intended to tell Charlie of his alternate’s fate.

And as the two of them speculated on what may have happened to Colonel Broyles, Olivia struggled with her growing fear that Secretary Bishop knew more than he was saying.

Agent Farnsworth was running probabilities now, and as she rattled off that there was a 4% chance that Colonel Broyles had disappeared of his own free will, a 27% chance that he was following up on some secret line of enquiry of his own and a 69% chance that something had happened to him, Olivia reflected on how different the Astrid Farnsworth on the other side had been. She remembered one night when she’d suggested that they hang out, and Astrid had looked so surprised and pleased to have been asked (Olivia got the impression that she was rather overlooked by their Fringe team and that any time away from the lab was a luxury). They’d had a few drinks and watched a movie. Olivia had been surprised by how much fun she’d ended up having, although she’d known that it had better not be repeated. If she’d let her guard down too much in front of any of them, it could have jeopardised their mission.

There wasn’t much chance of an evening like that with their Astrid. Almost robot-like in her efficiency, Olivia couldn’t ever remember a time when she’d seen her show any emotion. Sometimes the lack of eye contact gave her the creeps. There was no denying she was good at her job, and she got results. But sometimes Olivia felt it would be easier to work with a human being than a machine. 

 

She’d missed Rachel’s anniversary for the first time since it had happened. Olivia had remembered the date, of course, but had had to wait until she was on her own before allowing herself to cry. Peter had noticed she looked upset at one point, and Olivia had quickly covered it up by saying that it was strange not being with Ella on her birthday for the first time ever, since Rachel had reconciled with Greg and moved to Chicago. Peter had bought it, of course.

Ella. Would that have been the name her sister would have chosen for her baby had they both lived? Olivia would never know; never get to see Rachel’s child grow up, be asked to babysit, or speak to Rachel again. And even Over There, where a version of Rachel still existed, Olivia still never had that chance.

Even without the photographic memory, she’d managed to pass herself off as the other Olivia thanks to Newton’s recordings of the Fringe team cases. And if that stupid woman hadn’t called Peter and tipped him off, she’d probably still be getting away with it. But Olivia had known that the one person most likely to figure it out was Rachel. Newton couldn’t help her there. He didn’t have recordings of their Olivia and Rachel spending time together, didn’t know their family history. There were so many things Olivia did not know, so many ways for her to trip herself up. It was almost laughable to think of all the times when she had wished she had just one more chance to talk to Rachel again, and then there she was with an opportunity she was unable to take. But it wouldn’t have been the same. That woman was not her sister. And in some ways, it was a relief that she had moved away.

The couple of times that Olivia had had to take her calls, Rachel had put her distance down to the fact that Olivia hadn’t approved of her reconciliation with Greg. Whatever had gone on there (and if Greg was anything like her own universe’s version, then Olivia had her suspicions) she thanked God for it.

As soon as she could after her return, Olivia had visited her sister’s grave, carrying a bunch of flowers, only to see another two bouquets already there. One, she knew, was from her mother, but she had no idea who would have left the other. Curious, she’d stooped down, picked up the bouquet, read the card. I miss you every day. Olivia. 

Sour bile had risen in Olivia’s throat as she’d hurled the offending flowers to the ground, stamped on them, torn the card to shreds. Rachel was her sister, not the other’s. The other had no right to grieve, to leave her flowers there.

She’s already taken everything else. Did she have to intrude on my memories of my sister too?

 

She didn’t know quite what she was expecting from her first meeting with her mother after her return. It wasn’t until Marilyn had walked in and greeted her as though nothing had happened that Olivia realised it wasn’t that.

You gave birth to me, you raised me single handedly for so many years, we went through losing Rachel together...did you never once wonder? Did you never suspect that that wasn’t me? 

Deep down, Olivia knew that was a little unfair. Why would Marilyn have suspected? Olivia had only known herself about the existence of the other universe mere hours before the switch took place, and even now, it remained classified information – only Secretary Bishop, Brandon Fayette, Lincoln, Charlie, Astrid and herself knew of its existence as far as she was aware.

Of course Marilyn wouldn’t have considered that possibility. But as she’d chattered on happily about some shopping trip she’d taken with Her, Olivia couldn’t help but ask herself that question over and over again (as well as cursing the fact that the Secretary hadn’t prepared her for this. Yet in a weird way, Olivia almost wished for an opportunity to slip up, for someone to look at her and realise she wasn’t the woman they’d spent the last two months with).

Olivia knew she shouldn’t be thinking like this. She should be grateful that she still had her mother, unlike the Other. She’d felt Marilyn’s loss just as much as she had Charlie’s whilst Over There, and now that she had her mother back, Olivia felt that life was too short to continue dwelling on this. She’d put it behind her, move on. Just like nothing ever happened.

 

“Hey, Liv.” Frank’s voice had blared from the voicemail the first night she returned home. “Guess you caught a case, or you’re out somewhere with Lincoln and Charlie. Anyway, we think we might be getting the smallpox outbreak under control at last, so hopefully it shouldn’t be too much longer before I’m back home with you. I’ll call you as soon as I know more. Love you.”

Olivia had known that screening Frank’s call was the coward’s way out. She was going to have to talk to him at some point before he got back. But it didn’t have to be that night.

She knew it hadn’t been long after the switch that Frank had departed for North Texas (Lincoln had apparently chewed him out for having taken off so soon after Olivia’s “breakdown”). But it had been long enough that something could have happened between Frank and Her. Olivia would probably never know for sure what, if anything, had gone on between them, although she would most likely always wonder. But technically, Frank was innocent of infidelity. Anything he had done, he had done believing he was with his own Olivia. Olivia knew that she couldn’t say the same thing.

She’d seen it just as part of her mission initially, a way of keeping Peter from noticing the few times when the mask slipped, stop him realising she wasn’t the repressed, cold person he’d spent the last two years with. But over time, Olivia had begun to wish she was coming to Peter as herself, to wish she could share with him the feelings of displacement, living in a universe that was not their own. Peter was the only person who could understand what was going through Olivia’s mind, since he’d had to go through the same thing when his father had first brought him back to their universe (and probably when he’d first been taken Over There as well, although Olivia knew he didn’t remember that period in his life).

But Frank – he could never say that. His job as a virologist meant that he travelled all over the world, but literally travelling to another universe was something he could never understand.

When Olivia did take one of Frank’s calls, she experienced mixed feelings when he told her that she’d sounded distant the last few times he’d spoken to her. Guilt, knowing that she was thinking of Peter Bishop, even though she knew that there was little point. He’d chosen the other universe, chosen Her. Yet at the same time there was also relief; if she had seemed distant on the phone (which didn’t surprise Olivia, from what she now knew of Her) then maybe it meant that less had happened between them than Olivia had first feared. Frank was still hers, in a way that no one else was.

Frank was her present and her future; Peter was her past. It was time Olivia reminded herself of that. And maybe it would get easier once Frank was actually back in town (that reminded her, she’d have to get her tattoo redone before he returned). She’d be able to put Peter behind her, move on with Frank.

She just hoped it would be that easy.

 

The next time Olivia found herself alone with Secretary Bishop, she found herself apologising for the fact that she hadn’t been able to persuade Peter to return with her.

“Peter has made his choice,” Secretary Bishop waved that aside curtly. “His attachment to the other Olivia was just too strong.” Olivia hadn’t dared bring up what he wasn’t saying: that Peter’s attachment to the other Walter was also stronger than that which he felt for his birth father.

Although Olivia had to admit that she’d been surprised once she’d actually spent time with the other Walter Bishop, because he really didn’t seem like the monster Secretary Bishop had made him out to be. Olivia had heard some of his version of events surrounding Peter’s kidnapping, and understood that he’d really thought that he was acting for the best at the time. He was just as brilliant in his own way as the Secretary was in his, yet he seemed to be using his abilities for good, for saving his own world, rather than the destructive intentions of the Secretary. And he was kind, showed a genuine concern for the members of the Fringe team, where the Secretary was inaccessible.

She’d thought things were clear-cut at the time; she’d locate the missing piece of the machine, she’d get back to her own universe with the knowledge of how to destroy the other. Yet now she’d spent more time Over There, Olivia was beginning to wonder if the Secretary’s decision was the right one. These people weren’t just names and faces to her now; for a time, they’d been her friends. Walter, Astrid...Peter.

If Secretary Bishop went through with his plans to finish the other universe, he’d also be finishing his own son. And Olivia was starting to wonder what kind of a man she was working for.

 

She was barely listening to Lincoln and Charlie at first, until something Lincoln said caught her attention.

“That’s crazy, Charlie. Almost as crazy as the time you thought Liv was from another universe.”

“What?” Olivia exclaimed.

Lincoln looked embarrassed. “I guess you wouldn’t remember. It was when you had your breakdown. You kinda said some stuff about not being from here, that you’d come from another universe and were being held here against your will. Charlie here believed it at one point.”

Charlie blushed. “Yeah, yeah. As soon as you corrected me about Coney Island, I knew it was you.”

Olivia laughed along with them. Now wasn’t the time to tell them the truth, and she suspected she never would. But she was glad there had been a moment when Charlie had suspected something wasn’t right. It showed her that they weren’t totally interchangeable after all. She still had her own identity; she was still their Olivia.


End file.
